At dawn, when the darkness begins to fade with the incipient light and the warmth of the sun gains intensity, the silhouette of the wild rose is blurred against the light. The dew that wets its petals evaporates in the heat of the sun’s rays and creates an aura around it that moves capriciously in the morning breeze. The curiosity inherent in my profession pushes me to approach and savour this queen just when she wakes up and her scent is unique. My instinct guides me to the moment when the queen’s heart is uncovered to enter, between dew and gloom, to steal her reason for being.